


The Perfect Pie

by Woollycas



Series: Season 15 codas [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Episode Tag, Episode: s15e07 Last Call, Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Pie, spn 15x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woollycas/pseuds/Woollycas
Summary: Episode Code for 15x07. Dean and Cas work things out while baking a pie.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Season 15 codas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1516373
Comments: 12
Kudos: 152





	The Perfect Pie

Dean stares at the pie ingredients in front of him. It’s been a while —a long while —since he’s baked anything. He isn’t sure what made him think baking a pie was a good idea. That’s not true though. Sure, he wanted a temporary escape from Cas’s disdainful looks while making a run for supplies, but really, it was watching his brother and Eileen the other day that ultimately sent him reeling. Sam was feeling the weight of their losses as much as Dean —if not more, and Dean briefly thinks of Rowena. Sam got a win with Eileen though. He seems happy in his own doofy way, and Dean knows that’s no small thing. 

Happiness is something Dean hasn’t felt in a very long time. He rubs his face and focuses on the recipe card in front of him. He thinks about Lee, and the brief memory of happiness that was destroyed at the end of a pool cue. He thinks of Chuck and all they have to battle, all they have to fight for still. 

The flour, sugar, and apples taunt him. He doesn’t have the patience or energy to do this, he realizes. 

He hears a noise and looks up to see Cas. He’s standing between the hallway and kitchen, clearly wanting to run but realizing he can’t now that Dean’s caught his eye. 

“Hello…Dean.”

“Hi. Looking for Sam?”

Cas clears his throat and looks sideways. 

“No. Eileen and Sam are playing a very competitive game of foosball. I felt like I was intruding so I thought I would…wander.” The last word falls flat, awkward.

“I’m baking a pie, if you want to join me.”

Cas looks at Dean, his eyes are sad and his expression soft. “No, I should be elsewhere.”

Dean starts to move around the kitchen’s island to stop him, like he should have before. 

“No, Cas. Stay, please.” He clears his throat. “Please. I…I wanna clear the air between us.”

Cas huffs a humorless laugh and looks down his nose at Dean. 

“Help me make the pie,” Dean continues in a small voice. 

It was less of an olive branch and more of a tenuous invitation to talk. 

Cas bows his head a fraction and walks fully into the room. He takes off his coat and lays it on the table before easing up next to Dean. 

“What kind of pie are we making?”

Grinning slightly, Dean looks to the fruit on the counter, and points. “Apple.” He hesitates, and adds, “If you want to start peeling, I was gonna mix the crust together.” 

They set to their tasks in silence —the air definitely not clear. Dean isn’t sure how he should approach what he needs to say. 

“I killed someone this week. I mean, not just someone, an old friend,” he confesses without preamble.

He looks over at Cas, and sees he’s paused his work to stare back at Dean. Fleetingly, Dean notes that he was peeling the apples in one, long, curly strip. 

“What happened?”

“Long story. It —the whole thing made me realize that no matter how futile things may seem, they’re not. Someone has to fight for this fucked up world. Who better than us?”

Cas looks down and resumes peeling an apple. He says nothing. Dean realizes that Cas returned home to fight. Whatever conclusions Dean reached in the past couple of days, Cas did as well. Whatever that’s between them, though, is far from resolved. 

He curses himself. His mind is frozen over what he needs to say. He wants to say it. He wants Cas to understand. He’s not sure he has the right words. 

“My friend, he…he was more than that at one time. After him, I kind of shut that part of me down for a long while.” His face flames at the admission. Cas doesn’t react, but continues slicing the apples. 

Dean starts to roll out the pie crust, and keeps talking. “I fought against it for a long time. Didn’t want to disappoint my dad. I had to be the perfect son. And then it just became what it was, I guess. Until I met you.”

He stares at the dough in front of him. It’s flat with flecks of butter peppering the surface. It’s damn near perfect and ready to be placed in the pie pan. 

He feels Cas’s eyes boring into him though and looks up. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes are a more watery blue than usual. Dean looks down at Cas’s mouth to see his lips open in an expression of confusion. Dean licks his own lips and looks up again. 

“You were right when you said we were real. I know you meant what we’ve all been through, but you’re it for me, you know.”

His heart beats a little faster at that admission, and the tips of his ears are warmer. The oven is pre-heated but Dean doesn’t think that’s the cause. 

“Dean.”

“No matter what God has thrown at us, you’ve been by my side. We’ve fought it all together. This world is worth fighting for. I guess I know now that this,” Dean pauses and motions his hand between them. “What we have, what I feel for you, is worth fighting for. I pushed you away because what I feel for you is all too real. I wanted to feel nothing. I wanted to believe that this was all Chuck’s work. I don’t want that anymore. I want you by my side.”

Cas continues to stare at Dean. He briefly looks down, dropping the last apple slices into the bowl of sugar and spices. Dean wants him to stop, to look at him, to say something. He knows he deserves this silence though, for all that he put Cas through over the years. He can’t possibly begin to make up for it all. Cas lost family, too. 

After a long pause, Dean whispers, “I’m sorry about Jack.”

Cas stirs the apples, and Dean continues to stare at him. 

“I’m sorry about Mary,” Cas returns.

Dean dusts the flour from his hands and grips Cas’s arm. The residual flour leaves stark white prints against the dark suit jacket. 

“Not your fault.”

Cas stops and turns towards Dean, stepping closer to him. “I’m very sorry you lost her, all the same.”

The tension drains from Dean in that moment, and he pulls Cas into a long hug. He eventually pulls back, and says, “C’mon, let’s finish this pie.”

Together, they finish assembling the dessert. Dean pops it in the oven to bake. As the pie bubbles and slowly browns to a warm, caramel shade, Dean and Cas start to talk. Nothing too important is said, but it feels normal. It feels right again. 

Eventually, Dean takes the pie from the oven. His mouth waters as the aroma of the cinnamon and apple fill the kitchen. He sets the pie on the counter, and Cas brackets him in from behind, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. 

“Hmm, we should probably eat this before Sam and Eileen smell it. It’s too perfect of a pie to share,” Cas says. 

Dean leans sideways and gives Cas a small kiss on the cheek before grabbing two forks. 

“Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
